The New Deep
by Pearl127
Summary: A series of vignettes centering around the philosophies in Wicked, especially where Glinda and Elphaba contrast. [Bookverse]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This chapter takes places just after Elphaba sings for the charmed circle.

"… _but nobody would sing again, because she had done so well. Nessarose nodded to Nanny to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. _

_'Elphaba_says_ she's not religious but see how feelingly she sings of the afterlife,' said Nessarose, and for once no one was inclined to argue." _(152)

And no one argued about much at all after that. It was apparent that their evening outing was winding down and the conversation dwindled somewhat awkwardly until Crope and Tibbett excused themselves in what they thought was a very sly manner, being met only with a general rolling of eyes and shaking of heads. After that, the rest of the party members excused themselves gradually until Glinda and Elphaba found themselves back in their room at last.

Glinda was flipping half-heartedly through her literature text and scribbling out the last of her homework for the following day while Elphaba went about her evening routine in the bathroom. She set down her quill and glanced toward the adjacent door, left slightly ajar.

Much to her chagrin, Glinda found she couldn't seem to get that final conversation out of her head. Elphaba's ghostly little tune was still carrying on in her mind's ear. The simple purity of Elphaba's voice coupled with her lack of formal training bespoke a natural talent that made her voice, to Glinda, much more pleasing than the operatic gymnastics on which she had been brought up. The tone was clear, with only the slightest wavering vibrato to break the transparency of Elphaba's voice.

In fact, Glinda had half a mind to ask for an encore, but anticipating the answer to such a request, she skirted around the subject. "It was a wonderful song you sang tonight, Elphie," she called to the adjoining room.

"Eh…" was the reply, a verbal shrug.

"I mean it, you know. I wouldn't just _say_something like that."

There was shuffling in the other room, and Elphaba poked her head out the door. "Yes you would," she said, and backed out again.

"Well, maybe to _some_one, but not to you."

"I'm sure," came the reply, in a tone that meant she wasn't.

They both let the silence hang for a moment, hoping the other would continue until Glinda gave in, as they both knew she would. "Why don't you sing more often? After all this time, I never even knew."

Elphaba emerged from the washroom and settled herself on her bed, facing her friend. "Oh, _I_ don't know," she said, and left the phrase so open and vague that until she continued, Glinda wasn't sure if she meant it sarcastically or if she really didn't know. "Can you imagine if I actually went somewhere with it? 'The Traveling Green Bean' – I expect I'd sell more tickets for the sake of curious eyes than curious ears."

Glinda rolled her eyes and fixed her with a look. "Elphie, you knew what I meant. Not singing professionally, just… at all. Even around friends, just for fun?"

"But it's not _fun._It's just something that I do." Almost as a way of declaring the conversation's end, Elphaba flipped through her book bag and turned her attention to the contents of her notebook.

Glinda, however, persisted. "But you do enjoy it. I can see that. You can't sing like that and not care."

Elphaba was still pretending to sort through her notes, casually ignoring the remark on the pretense that she hadn't heard. Glinda, for her part, found it rather childish. "You heard what Nessa said. She's right, you know. Organized religion aside, that kind of passion requires a kind of spirituality, a _soul_fulness, if you'll pardon such an implication."

Glinda had touched on a topic that could not be resisted, and she knew it. "Soulfulness requires a soul, my pretty," came the predictable reply, laced with barely suppressed annoyance.

"Don't even start with that old argument again," said Glinda, though she had counted on just that. "I don't believe a word of it."

"Alright, I won't start with it then," said Elphaba, clearly intent on being as contrary as possible.

Glinda hadn't counted on this. She huffed a little and closed her book, deciding she'd finish the rest in the morning or not at all.

She was fully prepared to formulate a rebuttal when Elphaba surprised them both by continuing, softy. "Music only exists insomuch as we have the ability to perceive it. When you think about it… it doesn't even really exist. It only exists because of the way our ears interpret the sound. And so any emotional response to it is just… artificial."

And because of Elphaba's extreme aversion to any artificiality of any kind, even on the most basic, instinctual level, music was a means to an end and nothing more.

Glinda thought for several moments in an effort to script an appropriate and convincing response. What came out was even simpler and cleverer than she'd intended. "You think too much."

"What?"

"You need to think, I think. You think for the rest of us who don't."

Elphaba shifted a little in agitation and nearly stammered in her earnestness. "I don't believe such a thing is even – A person can't really – "

"No. It's true. It seems to me sometimes that you would be much happier if you could just stop and let things happen."

"Things don't simply happen to a person. You have to make them happen."

"Of course they do. Things happen to me all the-"

"Well things don't happen to _me,_Glinda."

They both fell into an immediate and uneasy silence. Glinda felt, as she sometimes did, that she had breached Elphaba's privacy and entered into that realm of childhood hardship to which she was naïvely ignorant. It was an area in which their lives never overlapped and which was generally avoided by both whenever possible, hindered as they both were by stereotypical misunderstandings and assumptions, the product of contrastingly sheltered beginnings.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This chapter picks up after Elphaba and Glinda have their talk with Morrible, just before they leave for the Emerald City. As before, I've given you a few little excerpts to set the scene. Enjoy.

* * *

"_You're so predictable," said Madame Morrible, sighing. "That's what makes my job so easy. Now girls, bound as you are to an oath of silence, bid to go away and think on what I have said. Please don't even try to discuss it together as it'll just give you a headache and cramps. You won't be able to manage it. Sometime in the next semester I will call each of you in here and you can give me your answer. And if you should choose not to help your country in its hour of need…" She clasped her hands in a parody of despair. "Well, you are not the only fish in the sea, are you?" _

* * *

"_I already said it and I'm not saying it again," said Elphaba. "My dear, you and I are going back to Crage Hall tonight only to pack a valise. Then we're away."_

"_But the gates'll be locked –"_

"_It's over the garden wall," said Elphaba, "and we're going to see the Wizard, come what may and hell to pay."_

* * *

Immediately upon entering their room, Elphaba slid the aforementioned valise out from under her bed, popped the latches open, and began stacking clothes inside. 

"Elphie?"

"We need to get out of here. To the Wizard. We can't… we can't stay." She was almost mumbling to herself as much as she was informing Glinda.

"We can't what? Elphie, what are you going on about?"

"The… I can't say." She grimaced and had to grit out the next bit between clenched teeth. "You heard what she said."

"You mean with Morr… with…" Glinda swayed a little on her feet, and had to lower herself onto the bed, blinking fiercely as if to clear her vision.

"Yes, yes!" Elphaba sat down beside her and took her by the shoulders. "We have to try…" She trailed off. When she spoke again after a moment, it was remarkably strong. "I'm not going to be some government pawn and neither are you."

The effort of forcing out a complete sentence seemed to have been too much for her, and her grip on Glinda's shoulders tightened, fingers curling into the fabric of her dress. When she regained control, she looked up with renewed intensity. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Yes… I think I understand," Glinda managed, finding herself grasping for the green hand on her shoulder for support. "It's hard to speak…"

"I know, I know. Listen," Elphaba gave the hand in hers as reassuring a squeeze as she could manage. "You have to help me fight this. I need you to help…" Suddenly, she dashed out of the dorm and into the adjoining washroom. Glinda followed, almost reluctantly, and found her retching miserably but seemingly unable to vomit. When she was finished, Elphaba leaned forward against the cool stone bowl, and took a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see that."

"No, no, it's not your fault, but Elphaba…" Glinda knelt beside her, willing Elphaba to meet her eyes, but her friend wouldn't oblige. "I hate to see you do this to yourself."

"I have to."

"No you don't. Of course you don't. Rather, what I mean is, you_ can't._ You aren't able to." When Elphaba opened her mouth to argue, Glinda continued anyway, "No, don't. Don't try. Look what she's done to you already. You can't do everything on your own."

"I know." Elphaba looked up. "That's what I'm asking you. I need you with me."

Glinda sat for a moment in shocked silence. Elphaba didn't ask anyone for anything. Ever. Her usually strong friend was before her, shaking and desperate. What kind of answer was she expected to give?

"What about Nessarose?" Glinda could have kicked herself. What a foolish, insensitive reply.

"I don't know." Elphaba shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I just need you with me for this. Please."

_Please._

"Alright. Alright, I'll try. But I don't know what you expect."

Elphaba rubbed a hand across her forehead. "I don't know what I expect either." She wasn't sure why Nessarose seemed like and after-thought, but something inside her was adamant – persistent – that Glinda was the priority.

Rising on shaky legs, Elphaba made her way back into the bedroom to continue packing. Glinda sat across from her on her own bed, chin in her hand. "Maybe we should just wait to see what happens next."

"Wait for _what?_" Elphaba rounded on her, shocked at such an implication.

"I'm not sure." Glinda stammered a little. "Just to see what we're up against, test the waters."

"Whatever Morrible's…" she faltered, dizzy from the spell, "Whatever she _did,_ it's only going to get worse over time. Why wait any longer? We know what we have to do – take this to the Wizard."

Glinda sighed and shook her head, looking a bit more exasperated than she'd intended. "It's not that. I just think we need to sit on this for a day or two to think it over. I don't think it's wise to just go rushing off to-"

Elphaba shut her suitcase unexpectedly and looked up. "You're giving up already."

"Elphaba, I'm not giving up, I'm trying to be prudent. Did you ever think," she continued, moving to sit beside her on the bed, "that maybe this is part of her plan? What if she _wants_ you to do something rash? She knows you, Elphie, and she's not foolish."

"You are giving up."

Glinda reached out and took her hand, trying to make some connection when Elphaba would not meet her eyes. "It's not that I don't trust you, I just know you too well, you silly green thing." Her tone carried a warmth that had not yet entered the conversation and both girls had to smile a little.

"You're coming then?"

Glinda took a long, slow breath. "I'm coming to the city. That's all I can promise."

"Thank you." Elphaba said, then added as Glinda began packing, "After all, my only promise is the same – I'm leaving Shiz."

"That's not the same thing."

"It's near enough for now."

Glinda fastened the last latches on her bag. "Yes, I suppose it's near enough for now."

* * *

For quite some time upon her return to Shiz, Glinda waited for her second meeting with Morrible, but it never came. But then, having returned frightened and alone, what answer was there to give? 


End file.
